Try to Believe
by kiabloopers
Summary: My name is Panthea Fawn Anarchy. Some people call me Panty. As you can imagine, having the title of school slut doesn't really dish out life for you in a silver platter. I have dream to leave this wretched town and pursue my one dream. But to get there, I would be needing some minor assistance. Why does my life suck?
1. Chapter 1

"Panthea Anarchy" Mr. Blumber flops a physics paper just waiting for me the get to take it.

I puffed out a bored looking shrug before marching to the teacher's table. I know where this is going.

"Ms. Anarchy, your name does keep up with you." He raised an overly untrimmed eyebrow before handing in my paper.

I crunch the paper with my hands as I found those bold letters of D minus on the upper right corner of my paper. Trying to contain the urge to rip my paper in half, I yanked it out of his scrawny hand. I turned to return to my seat at the back.

"Ms. Anarchy." He stopped my midway during my walk of shame. The class shifted their view to me expecting a show. Shit, here it goes again. Public humiliation. Doesn't he realize that the more he does this shit that less it actually affects me? I turned to face him and plaster a smile that didn't seem to quiet reach my eyes. Eyes that were filled with decapitating fury.

"What's wrong, Mister-uhm- Bald- Blumder." I joked noting his receding hairline that we all agreed about putting a toupee on. The class laughed which made the professor turn fidgety.

"Very funny, Ms. Anarchy. But I suggest you won't be the one laughing when I decide to fail you in my class." He spoke devilishly. I think he enjoys the public humiliation his giving me. Kodos, to the sadistic maniac.

"What makes you think that?" I crossed my arms eager to end this stupid conversation.

"It is BECAUSE you have been failing my tests with an average grade of D minus. Tell me, is that really funny?" He was furious that his ears looked crimson even from where I was standing.

"What if I say it is?" I let out a smirk. It was obviously to taunt him. He should know that humiliating me has consequences. If you pull me down, expect to be dragged downed as well.

I watch as the professor turn bright crimson yet his features narrowed to calm the storm with in him. I watched him like a hawk as he loosens his necktie to inhale some sense before speaking once more.

"Ms. Anarchy if you won't do something within the next month, I'm afraid I would hold you back from graduation." He calmed himself as if he had drawn the last card.

"And how do you expect to do that, dear Mr. Blumber?" I coined my tone to sound sweet yet exuded sarcasm.

"I'm calling your parents today to notify them." I would have dreaded the thought if my parents weren't separated or if they even cared.

"Well, good luck trying to make them care." I gave the professor a huffed smirk before turning my back to him.

I sat back to my chair and looked out of the window comfortably beside my seat. I tied my blond hair back to a ponytail before sinking down to the table to snooze and not minding the various gawking all around me.

I knew my life was destined to be fuck- uped but I never expected to not graduate. I would want to leave this godforsaken town and live my dreams. Dreams I hope would be waiting for me. But to get to there, life has to play hard-to-get. I was required to pass every single test I have right now before I could live this place. I wanted to scream since studies were harder to crack than any reinforced nail polish. I dreaded the thought of it. I wouldn't want to break my lazy streak but it seemed like Mr. Blumber was right this time. No matter how hard I try to think otherwise. I squished my eyelids and crumpled my forehead to emphasize the strain of this decision but for the love of God, I need a tutor. I could get my sister if I didn't despise her. She is everything a parent could dream of and well for me, I was not. I really need to find one before I would lose the chance to say my farewells to this retched town.

"Briefers Rock." Mr. Blumber voiced boomed once again to my ears. I slowly opened my eyes to watch a certain curly haired ginger walk to get his paper.

I watched as he returned to his seat that is in front of my second neighbor to the right. I watched as he folded the paper into half and thrown unceremoniously down his backpack. He must have gotten an A plus again. Figures.

While leaning my head on one side, I face the crowd in front of me. Some looked agitated, presumably, by their scores that I don't really give a fuck about. I glanced at Karen, my closest seatmate, to see her exhale a sigh of relief. She was a shy cookie. With her long bangs and dark brown bob, some people tease her as to being a wallflower or a loner. People can be cruel. I sorta liked her as my seatmate since, for once; someone actually minded their own business. I would like to ask her to be my tutor if only she wasn't that scared of me. Most girls are, in fact. Some pretend to hide their fear by spreading rumors but don't they get that that only shows how insecure you are. Those girls practically scared the other girls away from me. Most girls can't bear a conversation with me because they were too intimidated by my reputation. Why wouldn't they be? Being exactly friends with the school slut is always one of every girl's high school dreams. I know it certainly wasn't my dream to be one.

The story goes when I was dropped in this suburban town of Cockletale, Philadelphia. While my mom left with one of her lovers, I was left in care of my uncle, George. People around here were conservative and close- minded. They had values to uphold and traditions to foster. As for a girl like me, having an open mind spells nothing but trouble to these folks. A walking time bomb ready to explode all over their cherished values. They could kiss my golden tanned ass.

In my defense, I only sleep with the guys I like yet in the end; they always turn out to be horrible horny jerks. After several mishaps and washed up nights, I found myself in the midst of teen drama where I was the third person of Cosette van Barell's relationship. Girls can be bitches when you sleep with their boyfriends but no one can be bitchier than Cosette. It wasn't my fault that her perfect Nathan can't keep his hands to himself. He wasn't even a good lay. I wonder if Cosette even knows what a good lay is. I simper at that very thought. Days rolled by and I watch a typical cliché story of how a new girl crushed her life by sleeping with an unavailable man. Rumors spread and I found myself not even giving a single fuck about it. If boys want me for a good time, I'll be the one who decides if I'll hold my end of the bargain. It is just sex with no strings. What's the big deal? It ain't problem that bitches can put a leash on their boyfriends and it isn't my problem what they think of me. They're not friends and they won't get the best of me.

The old school bell rang with great promise. I jolted up my hazy daze, got my messenger bag and, bolted out the door. Thankfully, Physics was my last class. Why is it that fate has a twisted humor of putting the worse things right before the good ones?

I untangled my earphones and blasted Paul McCartney singing about a man that comes grooving up slowly. I find this thing calming as to occupy mind my mind from the repulsive stares the female kind are giving me. I climbed down a series of stairs before going to my locker to replace my leather shoes with my trusted red Keds.

While returning my shoes to my locker, I notice a silhouette with his features covered up by my locker door. I closed my locker and then I saw Gerald Connry's annoying jockhead face. My insides charred to oblivion. I was at a dilemma of puking into his bright red and white varsity jacket or kicking him that his balls would turn purple.

"What do you want?" I glared daggers hoping this dickhead gets the message.

"You know what I want." His face let out a smile. A smile that oozes with malice and agenda. I'm seriously retraining my throbbing leg from landing in his nether region.

The reason of this atrocious show of disappointing suave was from the fact that I fucked him. I was too wasted in one of the football team's party to even care to remember. All I know that I was one who had back pains after sleeping in a single bed.

"I'm not in the mood, Gerald." I passive paced to the exit and turned the volume up.

With a brute force, he dragged my arm thus yanking me back to face him. With enough bad luck, an earphone slipped out.

"What does it take to get in it?" He was stupid and at the same time annoying.

"Maybe if you leave me alone, I'll change my mind." I gave him a forced smirk.

The musclehead didn't stand a chance. He slowly let my arm go while he trying to process the logic. With all the things he is good at, being smart was luckily not one of them. I just love it when boys think with their dicks. It makes me much more grateful that I even have a nugget for a brain. I laughed internally and turned my way back to the exit.

During my usual walks home, I always take small detour to escape a little. I paced endlessly until I ended near the riverwall under the freeway bridge. Aside from the seldom passing by of cross country folks, the place had promise. It was quiet and far away. Just the way I like it. I look around the area to find a suitable spot to rest in.

"Yesh" I exclaimed finding some soft, clean grass under a shady tree.

I took off my blazer and flatten my skirt before melting to the surface. I sometimes thought of regulatory uniform as a twenty- first century torture method. It felt too stiff to even properly in. I stared at the kaleidoscope patches of pre- dusk sunlight. In Philadelphia, where it hardly ever shows a hint of sunlight, today was one of those rare days where the sun lit up the skies. I missed the sun. Ever since I've been here, most days were gloomy and cold. Thankfully, I have these kinds of little things to look forward. I loosen up my muscles to the ethereal hymns of the indie band, Bat for Lashes. My uncle once joked about the band being to frisky that almost sounded like some church choir pretending to be punk act. "You kids have weird taste these days. It is either too loud or too odd." He says. Right now, the frontwoman is babbling about a girl named Prescilla who loved a guy so strong that she had the patience to sing it over and over again; enough to repeat it through the entire chorus.

I wasn't a big fan of love. Love to me is a fantasy. Such as unicorns and the perfect lipgloss, it is easy to dream about it yet a lot harder to materialize. Wonderful things always come with a price. You can't fall in love without losing yourself. You fall prey to the glamour of the things that sparkles.

Take my parents for an example. They were once considered to be New York's best couple yet today; they are diminished to rattling fools. My mother, Rose Montgomery, was a socialite in Manhattan's crowd. With her blond hair and big blues, she could conquer world. She was ambitious and cunning. She had the world at her finger until she fell in love with a certain raven haired stud, Joseph Radek Anarchy. He was a self made mogul at any early age. He rose to the top of his game during his mid 20's. He was handsome as he was smart. He graduated with honors from Harvard with a degree in Business Management and Enterprises. They officially met during the Hampton's annual white party. My mother was swooned by him. They married shortly after and produced two beautiful twin girls. I, Panthea Fawn Anarchy, and my sister, Starling Willow Anarchy, were bestowed with silver spoons much larger than any average spoon. The world found us adorable because it was rare to see paternal twins with contrasting looks. I got my mother blond hair and blue eyes while Starling got dad's sea green eyes and ebony hair. I use to remember having a framed cover of Vanity Fair with the picture of a pretty family in our old Malibu mansion.

Who would have thought that in a flash that perfect picture came crumbling down into pieces. While my father immerses himself to his work, my mother had a string of love affairs. I despise the woman with all my heart. I still blame her for tearing the family apart. Fed up with my mother infidelity, dad decided the horrible divorce that took place when my sister and I were only nine years old. Two pairs of innocent eyes witnessed their world fall apart before their eyes. The worst came after the settlement. With a large portion of his money intact my father fled with my sister's custody while I was stuck with the horrible woman who did nothing but ignored me and sent me to this place.

People were in dismay when they heard the news and pitied the youngsters. How they wanted to help us and protect us from the pain but the funny thing is no one, not even my grandparents, ever reached out. We were left with the situation at hand then realizing that the world is unfair no matter how innocent you are.

I sighed to myself. Contemplating about the past wasn't I had in mind. I looked up to the pretty sky. I managed to make shapes out of it just kill time. I found one cloud that looked like my stuff bunny at home. It made me want to hug it with all it fluffiness and sweetness. That bunny is one of the few things I treasured.

As I got lost from the world, something hauled my back to reality. A small paper airplane drifted over my head before landing an arm's reach from me. I slowly got the plane and started to unfold it. I was surprise to see that this was from Briefers Rock and as I suspected he got a perfect score.

After a few short seconds, an idea came to me like a phantom. I quickly got up my spot without patting down my skirt or the stray grass in my hair. I dashed to the road and looked at both directions to find his figure just down by two blocks from my right. I ran one foot in front of the other. I was scared that I would have stumbled down since athletics wasn't what I do best and neither does chasing other people. Guys chase after me and never the other way around. But right now, I don't give a rat's ass about it.

"Briefers!" I shouted while I was a few meters behind him yet was quickly annoyed with the boy continued to tread forward.

After closing the distance between us, I got hold of his headphone and keenly yanked it out of his ears. The poor boy was shocked and turned to me. Serves him right.

"Uhm, Hello." The boy uttered after a series of stutters.

After catching my breath, I answered. "I'm Panthea from Physics class."

I looked up to his face. While searching for his eyes, I was swiftly detained it because they were hidden behind his long ginger bangs.

"Yeah I know you." He scratched his nape as a nervous gesture before asking. "What do you want?"

I looked down to my hands to process my reply. "I know it may sound sudden but can you do me a favor?" I gave him a smirk hoping to get on his good side.

His body language looked very nervous to me. The hand in the pocket and the constant shifting of focus all indicated it. I pitied the boy for bringing him into this type of situation.

"Uhm, Sure, Panthea." He managed to reply like any gentleman.

"I don't want to be forced to agree to this but—" I paused knowing I would drop a bomb to the boy.

"Would you be my tutor?" There I said it.

Behind his long bangs, I could sum up that he practically wide- eyed. He raises a hand to his face to ruffle it, giving me the chance to peek at his green eyes before the hairs run back again to hide them.

"I assure you I don't have anything to it. I just need your help since I'm flunking Physics."

"I'm not sure I'm the one you should be asking this to." He fidgeted.

Disappointment came crashing hard on me. I expected this. He was another one of those boys who were afraid of me.

"I'm sorry. I even asked. Thank you." With that I turned to walk away from him.


	2. Chapter 2

French class was a snooze. Madam LeMour. Take note of the capital 'm'. She asked us to take turns reading out the Hamlet's famous monologue. 'To be or not to be..' We all know how that goes. Hopefully, she'll realize that reading it in French won't make it any less depressing, or any other language for that matter.

I'm proud to say that I excel at French. It is one of my many hidden talents. Well, it is also thanks to my French nanny who I vaguely remembered to be quiet a spectacular experience. She lets us kids have a pretty traumatizing show with her oh- so French ways with all of her lovers. I grinned at the memory of her face when my mother saw her with the delivery boy on the kitchen island.

As bell rang for lunch, I got out of class before walking down the crowded hallway hoping people wouldn't bother me.

Just to be perfectly ironic, a figure held me up in the middle of a crowd.

"My, my, if it isn't Panthea, or should I call you 'Panty' just to remind you that you still need to wear them." Cosette's perky and high- pitched voice echoed to my very annoyed being. The crowd was hooked, and I will give them a show all right.

I shrugged and let out a giggle. "Hi, Cosette. It's nice to see here and not rehearsing that line which I must was a little too commercial." I heard my audience's giggles before adding. "And I do wear panties. Just not the type you place beside your grandmother's bloomers, and how is 18th lingerie? I ask because I heard that you were quite fond of them." With that, I started to walk away.

"I heard about your conversation with Mr. Blumber. Has the school slut come to be the school idiot as well? I must say that's a little over achieving if you ask me." And with that I stopped my tracks. The gloves are off, baby.

"I'm sorry about that but no one can be more achieving than you. You are just so better than me."

"Of course, I'm a whole lot better than you will ever be." She talked as if she could write a will and die in peace.

I laughed. "I'm impress because you're little Nathan told me otherwise." I see her stiffening up with the sound of his name. I'm actually quiet enjoying this. I paced back to her and whispered to her ear. "He said I was the best lay he ever had."

If I could pick any crowning moment in my horrible life, I could say this hits the top ten. Miss van Barell perfectly matte make- up cracked like porcelain as it were trying to contain the raging bull from within.

"You are such an idiot. I guess sleeping with the teacher is high on your agenda right now."

"Highly unlikely, I don't settle for cheap ass shit like that." I turned to walk away yet stopped to say. "I'm sorry for you."

"Why is that, Panty?" Cosette dragged the question so long that I believed she didn't want an answer.

"I'm sorry since Nathan doesn't fuck that well." I gave her a looped smirk before taking the final exit. I was please to her cursing when I turned the corner up the stairs.

I proceeded to the rooftop door and quickly scavenge my bag for the master key.

If you're ever wondering where I got the keys, I would proudly say I stole it for the head of the swimming team. All it took for me was a quick make- out session in the changing rooms to snag it from him.

After testing the limits of the key, I found out the rooftop. It was a vast space on top of the high school. Since it was five floors up, it overlooks the football and some lunch benches. I came to like this place. I called it the "Shelter" as if to say that I'm in a battleground. What I am kidding? I am in a battleground.

I climbed the ladder to my favorite spot. Over the entrance porch, there was this humorous water tank that provided an awful lot of shade to a secluded corner. I sat on the edge to overlook the fields.

I took out my iPod and played a random shuffle through the long list of songs. A long paused came before a swooping band of percussions and before I know it Amy Winehouse sings about a girl named Valerie.

I watched as clouds rolled as I took bites out of my wonderful sandwich George made. Today, it was turkey ham and cheese. This is one of the few reasons why I love him. His cooking was heavenly.

My vision landed on the nasty set of blond locks glimmering, or in this case, blinding me from a distance. I could imagine her laughing at petty small her minions make, and talk about how her nail beds are seemingly more important than world hunger itself.

While thinking of the many things I could do to strangle her dainty neck, my phone magically rang in my skirt pocket. The tune was delirious but it never fails to get my attention.

I pick- upped the call without even bothering to check the caller ID.

"Hello." I started.

"Uhm.. Hello… Panty?" A voice verbalizes.

I gulped a small amount of air. _"Fuck! Why now?"_

"What? Star! Is this really you?" I exclaimed. This was very unlikely. Strange even. Why would she be calling me right now? I mean, she has the perfect life.

"Yeah, it's me." I hear chuckle shyly through the line. It was shy and secretive. It was the amount of mystery that made at me worry. One thing about the Anarchy Sisters is that we don't cower to fear.

"It's weird for you to call. What do you want, lil sis?"

She chuckled again. "You're only three minutes older than me. Don't get too cocky."

"Yeah but you still beat at everything else." I said.

Silence invaded the line. Awkward and cryptic silence, it was.

After a few moments, her voice reanimated. "I am sorry for that, Panty." She sounded broken. I internally punch myself for the stupid misstep I took.

I always grub my own grave. "I am sorry too, Star. Didn't mean it that way."

"I know."

I pressed back the urge to ask her about dad and moved on. "So why is it that you called?"

Noises shuffled through the line before focusing to her voice again. "Panty?"

"Yes?" I tried to sound as playful as possible.

"I have a problem." I could feel the dread and the courage she took just to say those words.

"What is it?"

I hear hollowed shallow intakes through the phone.

"Father is arranging a merging with some big ass mogul." I hear her panic.

"And what seems to be the problem? He does that all the time."

"But now it seems that he wants to merge the families." I could feel her losing her strength after each and every word.

"WHAT!? So you're telling me, Dad has arranged an arranged marriage. Talk about medieval times." I tried containing the shock that raked my body. _Dad, this isn't you. _

"Yes." She choked on that tiny word.

Anger rose through me. "So what's your plan, sister dear?"

"I shouldn't be asking you but does Uncle George have an extra room?"

I smile. "If you count the attic room, then yes but it would be far from your penthouse suite."

"It's fine. We could share a room." I could feel the tease coming up.

I laughed at the old memory. "That'll be a catastrophe."

She laughed too. "Yeah. It will be."

Her tone change a little before saying. "How is it there?"

"Just your average simple, boring town. Arggh! The things I'll do after I get out of this hell hole. I better start with Tisch."

"Still holding on to that dream, eh?"

"You betcha. Plus it gives me a reason to be close to you and dad." I gleamed.

She chuckled but this time it was playful and serene. "I envy you so much, Panty. You know that, right?"

I was fazed by his honesty but regained my momentum. "Of course! Who wouldn't?"I lied.

"Of course." I feel her simper through the phone.

I like her this way. Self- spoken and cute.

"So when will you be here?" I asked.

"Probably in three days time. I still need a witty excuse."

"Good luck with that, Star." I smiled. I hope George doesn't freak out.

"Please tell Uncle George not to tell mom."

"Aye! Aye! Is that all, Star?"

"Pray this'll turn out like we imagined."

"You know I'm not big in religion but alright, Star."

"And quit calling me 'Star' reminds me of mom plus I like my other nickname better."

I despise hearing her say that word. It doesn't mean a thing us.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. So I guess this is goodbye. For now at least."

"Sure. Good luck, Stocking." I surely do hope so.

"You too, Panty."

"Goodbye, Stocking." I transfixed on the painful effort took to press the button until I dropped the line.

But without a second pass, a funny thump caught my busy attention and caused me to turn around.

I was shock to see Briefers. Here of all the possible places. He is here dangling clumsily on the ladder as if he could fall in any moment just because of his stupidity. It looks as though he had slipped judging from the arm that embraced the framework and the other on the ledge of the platform. He had this shell- shock look on his as if I caught him red-handed. Well, it also looks like I did.

"Did I just catch you sneaking and listening to a private conversation?" I said with a riled tone.

He fumbled to climb the remaining stairs and bravely stood in front of yet shook like a pathetic coward.

He nodded bashfully.

"In that cause, should I ask you the reason why you're here?" I asked again.

He shook his head.

I got a little frustrated and said irately. "Can you get a clue? All those questions were rhetorical."

His eyes widen. His dismay was clearly shown by the erratic gestures he was emitting. It was funny in a sadist kinda way.

I sighed. "So are you gonna tell me why you're here or do I have to beat it out of you?"

His shifting eyes focused on me before replying. "Uhm. I-I just didn't want to be down there."

This was big. Briefers Rock is missing a class.

"Really? You?" I pointed at him to emphasize my disbelief.

He turned to his side in shy frustration.

I laughed at him. It may not be the cleverest thing to do but I wanted to do it anyways. I couldn't blame him to escape here. I mean, it is hell down there.

"So are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna sit?" I patted the place right beside me.

I see him shocked at what he just heard but shuffled to sit on the spot. He was nervous I could tell. I laughed again. If I was anyone other than me, I would be scared too.

"May I ask a question?" He said just to be polite.

"Sure why not?"

"Did I do something funny?" The look on his face made me giggle a bit.

I answered. "Nah, I was just impressed how a square like you bended so easily without my help."

He thought for a minute before giggling himself. His voice was husky but it sounded too forced to be real.

"Really? You think of me as a square." His tone was now playful.

"Of course. You are in the top of our class and plus you never seem to have any friends."

His giggle turned to maniacal laughs in a moment's time. I actually didn't know what to do. I was too baffled by his change in tone and confidence.

He took off his reamed glasses and ruffled his ginger hair back. He looked almost sexy doing that. He later unbuttoned some buttons on his shirt and visibly relaxed. I could see his shoulder blades and upper pecks. This time I could say he was doable but the fact that this felt too weird made it awkward.

"Why do you looked so shock?"I failed to notice him staring at me.

He had beautiful eyes. Emeralds orbs that perfectly contrast his ginger hair. They were soulful and profound yet full of strange sadness. I can't help but relate since I see that look almost every day in the mirror. The freckles on his face were cute. They scatter in his face and made him look playful. With all this going on, I can't help but wonder if I've seen this face before.

"What's with all this? Am I missing anything here?" I hear myself sound so desperate and confused.

He giggled again. I'm starting to think this is a set- up. _Where are the cameras?_

"Calm down. No, you're not. It's just simply an exchange." He said assuredly

"What fucking exchange!?"His confidence is really starting to irritate me.

"Well, you know that I'm not entirely a square. I personally like to keep this side of me to myself. Now, it's your turn to tell me yours." He watched me with his eyes. The eyes that I just wanna poke out of their sockets.

"I don't have a secret." I sounded like a whiny kid all of a sudden.

He laughed at me as if he could see right through me. "If it's not a secret then tell me what your dream is? The dream that you've been chasing around."

I was shock. "How did you know about that?"

He smiled and said. "It took a lot to hang in there." He pointed at the ladder at our backs.

"Son of a bitch!" I slapped his shoulder.

"Owww! No need to be violent." He nursed his shoulder still giggling. How is he enjoying this? Is he secretly a sadist?

"You deserve it." I humped out.

"Maybe. So are you gonna tell me?"

I baffle random thoughts in my head. First were the ways I could do to kill him. Second was the sudden change in his attitude and third, the fact that he feels so familiar. I'm definitely missing a lot of things here.

I sighed and rubbed my temple. These thoughts are gonna give me a head practically because I didn't give anything much thought before.

I stared back to him. He looked hopeful. He looked unwavered. I can't help but think I owe him this. I remember something my father use to always say. _"An Anarchy never lets a debt go unpaid."_ Stupid dad.

I heaved a sigh before speaking. "Then I tell you but do you promise that you won't laugh."

He pledged his right hand and gestured to sip his mouth shut. He better. I turned to watch the scenery again before finding my shoes the most interesting thing there is.

"Well, it's to be a director." I said bashfully.

I turned to him. I was expecting him to laugh and point fingers but he did nothing. He was just there staring with a half-turned smirk in his face. His silence is what worries me deeply.

"I guess we all have dreams." He finally reanimated.

"so you did not find that funny at all?"

"No. just the opposite."

"Why?" I was curious of his sudden serious.

"Because it's nice to have something to aim for."

"Pretty vague. I was expecting a little confession or some more secrets."

He smirked. "One at a time."

"Fuck you." I said playfully. I was getting comfortable around this guy. Weird, huh?

We laughed a little and I offered him some of my sandwich which he accepted. We later relish a comfortable silence between us. It was okay since I practically knew we were stuck in our own worlds. We do have a lot to think about.

And speaking of thought, one just passed my mind again.

"So are you reconsidering the proposal I gave you?" I broke the silence.

"The one about helping you out?" He perked up in realization.

I nodded.

"I guess this goes without saying but yeah. I'll do it." He smiled at me.

I couldn't contain myself and hug him erratically. "Thank you so much."

His laughed coursed through my ears. It sounded unusually beautiful and then again, familiar.

"Anything for a friend." He patted my back before I tangled myself for him.

"Friend? What kind of friend do you mean?" I eyed him.

"Just the regular friends. No strings just plain friends. You're the one who said I needed one." He finished with a half- looped smirk.

"Fine." I offered my hand out. "Friends." He gladly received my hand and shook it.

"I'm guessing this is your first time having a regular friend, isn't it?" He playfully pointed out.

I puffed some air in frustration. "How do you that?"

"Do what?"

"Saying the most inappropriate things yet making them sound appropriate?" I glared at him but in a playfully tone.

"What can I say? It's a gift" He said in-a-matter-of-factly which also earn him another slapped in the shoulder.

"Dear woman, if I hang out with you any longer, I would be dead and on the street in due time." Now, it's my turn to laugh at him.

We, in turn, shared our mutual stories of how we hate our school so much. We laughed at Cosette's shrieky voice. We listed down all the bad fucks I had. I honestly say this was one of the funniest things I did in a long time.

"So can you tell me how you got in the rooftop?" I asked out of the blue.

He smiled his looped smile and whispered. "One at a time."

This also earned him another slap.

* * *

Finally finished it. In the mean time, finals will be up so no promises on any further release.


	3. Chapter 3

I was scribbling some random notes from the board. The lesson today was a review about the Newton's laws. Briefers says that it ain't that hard since the formulas only comes in later. I guess he's right since there wasn't a peck of numbers in the board… yet.

Today I sat beside him. He was busy reading his books that resulting never getting a chance to open a conversation with him. Today, he was busying himself with reading Hamlet. I admire his courage reading that shit on a Physics class but he always had it easy since the teachers never call him to answer a question. Lucky bastard.

I proceeded to try and daydream while staring out the window but I was interrupted by Mr. Blumber, himself. Seriously, is Blumber even a name?

"Ms. Anarchy, could you tell me what inertia is?" I could see that little wiggle on his bushy eyebrows when he wants to humiliate a student; and now, that was unfortunately me.

I gulped down the nervousness and turned to face Briefers. I was glad that he got out of reading the silly book just in time to help me. He stared at me with that smirk on his eyes and sneakily pointed at the first words on the right side on my notebook. I looked back to my notes and found them just sitting there pretty. With a whisper, I mouthed the words "Thank you" to him. I turned but I caught him smirking his half- smirk under the thickly- rimmed glasses.

"Uhmm. Sir, Inertia is the resisting force created when force is applied to an object." I feel myself rejoice in merriment as I dance to silly grooves in my head.

I saw Mr. Blumber huffed out in frustration and wiped his wide forehead before deciding it wasn't over.

"So Ms. Anarchy, could give me an example?"

I skimmed my brain but laughed at the thought of my answer but what the heck? "For example, if I punched someone hard in the face, I would feel the force I exerted to my punch since my hand would hurt. Needless to say if there was no inertia then that head would be off in no time."

The class went silent. It was funny but I took that as my cue to sit down

Mr. Blumber creased both his brows trying to digest my answer. What can I say? It really is meant for him anyways if he was smart he would have got it by now.

He cleared his throat forcefully. "That wasn't the best example but Ms. Anarchy was correct."

I smiled at myself for answering my first Physics stand- up question.

I felt Briefers poking my shoulders with his pen. I turned to look beyond his bangs and to those emerald orbs.

"Good job." He whispered.

I don't know why this guy keeps this act up. His other side is way better. It may be annoying but still better than this.

It went on just like that for the whole period. It was me gazing in and out of thought while copying the notes Briefers asked me to jot down. He thinks this would help me but how does he know? He practically just sits there staring at the teacher or the book.

The bell rang and classes ended. The class ran out the room before I could even fathom but it was always this way. Normally, I was comfortable of people not talking and leaving me behind.

As I packed my stuff, I noticed Briefers waiting by the doorframe. I smiled at myself. Luck comes unexpected these days, they say. Well, for me to have a friend like this, I feel like Lady Luck is smiling on me for the first time. This feeling doesn't come often with me. The feeling of satisfaction and clarity is a little too distant for me sometimes.

I swung my bag over my shoulders and walk to him. I gave him a warm smile hoping it would give him an idea of how I feel. He chuckled a little.

"What?" I asked him.

He looked around to see if the coast is clear before saying. "I was wondering how many people you smile to."

I creased my to process what he had just said. I simper knowing that the numbers only fit in a handful.

We decided to walk through the less crowded hallways hoping to not find any trouble. We carefully looked out through the faces making sure it wasn't any bitchy blondes or some horny jock. We navigated our way through the building until we were at the threshold of the back gate.

"Uhm. What are we gonna do now?" I gestured at the padlocked gate.

"Have faith, woman." He searched his bag. He gave a smile when he hears the metals chucking until he finally got out a set of keys.

I raised a brow as he picked out the series of keys. I surveyed the keys and saw one master key. It was the key to open almost every door in our school.

"I guess that would be the reason why you were at the rooftop that time."

The padlock clicked thus opening the rusty old gate. "Pretty much."

"So can I ask again how you got these?" I pointed at the keys.

He shrugged his shoulders "I have 'connections'." He also placed the quotations with his fingers.

"Right? Mystery guy. I get it." I clicked my teeth while pointing at him.

We walked through the narrow alleyway until we reached the clearing to the main street.

"So do you have any idea what house we're going today?" I gleamed at him.

He shrugged and said. "Well, you know perfectly clear that I don't want you to know anything about me. Well, at least for now. So why don't we go to your house?"

"Well" Emphasizing the word. "We know perfectly well how stubborn I am, so led the way, my friend." I made a mock salute and went down the east side of the road.

I was exaggerating all my strides when suddenly he pulled my hand, bringing all of my body to him. My vision blurred. The world swirled until a hard chest hit my face and two arms circled me. I was silly really how I ended up in his arms but I can't shake the feeling of security in his arms. I purred to a second before his hand shook me out.

I shook out of his arms and straightened out myself. I pushed down any mushy feelings I felt thinking it would be very unwise to venture to them right now.

I busied myself trying to find to change the subject. "So where are you parents?"

He stopped his tracks for a moment and breathed in a shaky breath before saying. "I prefer not to talk about it right."

A feeling looped through me. I have a feeling that he may be going through the same thing as me. We both may have grudges against our parents, and we always choose never to discuss about it.

"Why?" I stupidly ask to test the theory. His face turned downright at the thought of his dad. He was silent, and I stopped anything from coming out my mouth.

I smiled in understanding and continued to walk forward.

It was kinda like the feeling I have when anyone related me to my mom. I hate how people always say I looked and acted like her. I hate how they say I dress and even wink like her. I hate myself for making people expect anything bad from me. I always try to prove I'm different but I always ended up doing what they say I'll would. It was both freaky and frustrating that I concluded that that was the reason why I hate her and my being. I hate about not being able to run always from it. I hate that I always came back from scratch.

I shook the thoughts off my head and looked at Briefers. He was still shaken from our early conversation. I smiled at him making him turn to me.

"So you never asked me why I wanted to be a director." I started hoping to change the mood.

He smirked his half-looped smirk then muttered. "I never think I got the honor to but now you pointed it out, why is that?"

"Wow, you were never this shock to know what I wanted the first time I said it." I bumped his shoulder.

He laughed. I congratulated myself. "Well, as you said, I was too busy being a square." He mockingly fixed his glasses. "And I was too scared for you not to kill me on the spot."

Now, it's my turn to laugh. "Yeah, true."

We neared the end of the street and paused to a stop. "So the reason?" He pointed out.

I giggled. "Do you ever have the feeling of taking control of your own life?" I peered at him to see him nod. "Well, my life is complete bullshit so I ever since I was on a set with my Uncle George; I watched the director and it seemed very amazing how the thing came together just with his instructions. Even though it was just for the cameras, everything felt real and 'his way' through those lenses."

I stared at some practical nothing across the busy street trying to gather up the relevance to my desperate chase to freedom.

"So is there any reason why we can't go to your house? Well, til we actually landed there."

"Nothing. I just don't want to be home right now." He said grimly.

"And that makes two of us? So,, what's your story? Do you have any weird family problem, a scary father, or a body at home?"

He looked shaken and scared while staring across the street. I literally gave myself a face punch. I patted his back.

"I was joking, Mr. Uptight" I corrected.

"Then make it sound less serious but I will tell you. You pretty much had a picture of my life right there."

"And why is that?" I peered at him with my big blues eyes.

He grunted and eyed me just as well.

"One—" He started.

"At a time. I get it. I get it." I tapped his shoulders and laughed at him. "You know this mystery guy doesn't really fit you."

"It's not that I'm hiding it. It's just a little complicated." He sounded lost and confused.

I nodded to myself hopefully making myself drop the subject.

"So where are we going?" I started.

"Well, why don't we just walk until we magically land to whoever's house?"

"Sounds tiring but- Oh well. Lead the way, my lord." I gestured to the narrow path in front of us.

"My lord?" He raised a brow. I think. It's hard to know under all those bangs.

"I'm sure you were into that book you're reading." I pointed to the book he was holding.

"Nah. I was just making myself look occupied so you'd listen to the lesson for once." He laughed.

"You sneaky bastard." I shouted then slapped him in the shoulder again.

He looked heartbroken for a moment before he turned to his side with only his profile to view.

We walked side by side wandering whichever way we were going. If we saw a turn, we do rock-paper-scissors just to decide if we were going walked down it. It was whimsical and fun. It was a way to kill time. As time blurred to our liking, we found ourselves wandering under the same bridge where I asked him to be my tutor. You know the place where he rejected me. I gaped at him and he found it quite strange for me to be looking at him with a devilish grin on my face.

"What are you thinking of now?" He creased his brows finding it too hard to find an answer for my behavior.

I drew my grin bigger and reached for his horrible glasses. He fought a hard fight yet I always have this uncanny ability to get what I want… sometimes.

"Please don't break them." He warned me.

"I won't" I stuffed the thing to my bag and reached out my hand to ruffle his hair.

"There much better." I smiled at my handiwork.

He scratched his hair and proceeded to unbuttoning the topmost button of his shirt.

"You are such a trouble."

"I know but you got to admit you look better this way, geek boy."

"Didn't really put a lot of thought to that but since you said it, I guess I do look ravishing." He did that gesture the same to that corny movie called Grease wear people run their hands through their hair.

I laughed at him. "You snob." I placed my elbow to his shoulder just as we turn the corner to a nearby street. It was a neutral decision so I whistled my down the aisle. I came to realize that we were nearing the back door of my house. I cringe my nose in disbelief but my feet argued to point out the fatigue and weariness that they are.

"Damn! I guess you win, Rock."

He laughed hard. That was when I lightly slapped his cheek and I ran my hands through his hair again. I may get use to this. It was like rubbing my hands through my favorite horse, Magnolia when I was little. She had a brownish-red mane that distinguished her from the rest. She was my father's gift to me. I treasured her so much. But due to the divorce, my father decided to sell her since he knew no one would be able to take care of her. I can't say I blame him. It's enough to drown your kids into personal drama yet dragging an innocent animal would be criminal. I just hope she finds a great home to take care of her.

I guess the great similarity between Briefers and Magnolia was their big bright eyes. It was cute, oozing with innocence and thought but it also shows a picture of fear and sorrow. You may think I'm crazy but every time my parents would fight, I always run away to our ranch four hours away from New York just to see her, and I swore I could see tears in her eyes whenever I hug her. It was warm and comforting. Like some people say there is comfort better given by an animal than human themselves.

I saw him shiver a little when I pet his nape. "So is anyone home?" We turned the corner to find the back gate.

"Nope. My uncle would be back tomorrow night so for now, we are definitely alone." I unlocked the gate.

"If I was any guy that would be like a golden ticket." He joked.

"But you are not like any guys. Those guys are jerks and for some weird reason, I came to like you being around."

"Even if we only talked like two days ago." He followed me as I jiggled my keys to find the one for the back door.

"Yeah. I have this awful talent for trusting people a little too much." I tried to sound like a joke but I realized that I meant it more than I let on.

"Ouch! Can't say I'm not guilty." He laughed. "And you never could tell me that you were in the better part of town."

"Better part of town?" I mumbled.

"Right? It may be that you're awfully blind, or just insensitive but most people in this town don't have a house with this size."

I stepped back and looked at the house. "Really? It looks moderate to me."

"Okay. I rest my case. You are insensitive." He choked a little when I suddenly hit his gut with a sucker punch.

I laughed with him too. You know that thing I told you about him being familiar too me. Let's just say I listed down some possibilities. One would be that he was my childhood friend. A long lost one, forgotten and thought to be dead. Second, he maybe one of those people that I fucked but the percentage of that maybe a little scarce so jump in to the next one. This one would be my best guess. It may be a little over-the-top but what do you know? It could happen. So this one would be that he could be some kid I fell in love with when I was little. A simple servant boy raised by one of our several staff. Unsurprisingly, I fell in love several times when I was young or at least I thought it was love. The words infatuation, crush, and lust didn't appear in any of my pictures cards and no one was ever really there to teach us. I always thought that it would turn out like my parent's but you know how that ship sailed. I was blinded and truly astounded with that belief of utter bliss when you're together with that special person. It's stupid really how this world could be so cruel to that innocent little girl. It crushed her dreams of happy ever after she read in her various fairytales and bedtime stories. But the thing I learned about growing up was that is world ain't cruel. Its people's drive to make it a miserable place makes it cruel.

We walked in to the kitchen. George was out on a business trip to work on a production of a new upcoming series. He said it was a major production made by some big- ass producer. I don't know. I don't keep up with thought stuff but boy did he keep this place in touch. It was a sizable kitchen with pale black marble toppings and a Greek ambience to it. The plates and bowls were shipped from Italy and the silverwares were custom-designed by some French jeweler. I know. How could a grown man put so much effort on those things only a housewife would notice or even care. Frankly speaking, I tell you that my uncle is gay.

He is jazzy. He's funky but most of all, he takes his style very seriously and takes time in finding the best retailer for any sort of object. Just as the kitchen, any room in this house was a hands-on job to him. Even my room had three designers before he settled on that theme he wanted. My room, now, was shabby-chic slash old Hollywood to it. It had king's sized bed with white pillars and vintage lace canopy. I think he mentioned that the loveseat and draping were from Paris, or maybe Venice. I'm not sure.

Briefers whistled behind me as gawked at the splendor of my uncle's work.

I walked around the massive kitchen island before ramming the fridge for some bottled iced tea. God, I was thirsty. I chugged down my drink while I eyed him through my peripheral vision. He seemed to be enjoying his surroundings. I think. He touched the elfin cookie jar George brought home from his trip to New Zealand specifically the Lord of the Rings set.

"This is so cool. Ohh, it's a collector's item." He studied the object and admiring it like a kid who had his first toy car.

I giggled behind him and place the bottled beside rows of other beverages.

"So where do you want to study?" He asked.

I thought at that and decided. "How about we study in the dining room? Since no one but me is here, let's just have a whole table to ourselves."

"Why can't we go to your room?"

"Uhhmm. One, it's a mess. Two, I don't want any wrong conclusions." I guided him through the dimly lit hallway to the dining room.

"Oh well, it's your house so I'm in no room to argue." He passed me and offered one chair out. "My lady." He jokingly bowed his head yet unable to contain his giggled.

"What's with this?" I pointed at him as I drop my bag to the wide Rococo-styled table at went perfectly well with its surroundings. Other furniture however had a modern twist to it to match the room with the grand scheme of the house.

"I thought it would match this room." He eyed every fixture it had. And now, even I can't contain a laugh.

"I better get my ball gown." I mocking fanned myself and proceeded to take the offered seat.

Briefers sat on the end seat beside me laid his hands as well as his bag on the table. "So what do you where do you want to start?"

That was the question I dreaded. I busied my eyes to scan the room as if it was interesting. Silence picked up and I swallowed in dread and in shame before answering the question. "I don't want to sound irrational." I played with my fingers and inhaled slowly. "But I guess, we could start from Chapter-." I got my book from my bag and opened to the pages. "Chapter 4—42?" The last words sounded weak and fickle.

And there it was again, silence. I raised my wandering eyes to Briefers unable to hide the anxiousness. I expected him to do what other people would normally do but he didn't. He simply sighed like he knew what's coming. He caught my gaze and smile warmly.

"Okay. Let's start." He uttered before getting his book and notebook.

With all the time he took to open his books, I stared at him in a dumb gaze. He must have noticed me since he stopped his tracks and snapped his fingers his fingers in front of me.

"Stop that you're scaring some shit out of me." He joked.

I shook my head and smiled at him. "How could I when you're supposed to be angry at me?"

He laughed a little before reaching to pat my shoulder. "You couldn't just expect people to turn away from you just because you they will laugh or mock you."

"What makes you say that?"

"I guess I just don't want other people to ever feel that way." He smiled brightly but with deep meaning.

I returned the smile and look to his eyes. To those green shades, I feel like I could rest every problem I ever had.

I removed his hand from my shoulder and went back to his notes. "So shall we start now? We have fifteen lessons to review."

He scanned his notes as I watch him in unspeakable fascination. I never had expected him to do that. I was ready for some insults, distraught and a possible walk-out but he didn't. This is a boy that trusted me and actually treats me as something other than what people told him to treat me. I contained a teary eye and touched the warmth that has left my shoulder. I quickly removed my hand before he'll notice.

"So, are we ready?" I asked him and was then again given a warm smile.

* * *

I rubbed my temples and huffed out a huge exhale of exhaustion. "I can't believe we finished three chapters." I finally got a chance to rest my head on the table surface.

Briefers rested his back and laid out quite comfortably on his seat. "Well, you are quite dedicated in answering each problem."

"Whatever it takes to finish this crap."

He laughed weakly as I can see his exhaustion seeping out of him. After a few short seconds of silence, we were bombarded with the sound of the door bell.

"Who could that be?" I wondered. I knew for sure it wasn't Uncle George.

"A stalker maybe?" Briefers wisely suggested before I wacked his head as I stood up.

"Have I ever told you that you have a thing with violence?" I laughed sarcastically as I urge him to stand up with me.

"Shut up, geek boy. You're coming with me." I half- dragged him through the hallways to the front door.

I looked through the peephole to see nothing but a vague picture of a dimly- lit porch. I managed to unlock all to the security measures such as locks and alarms. "Hello? Who is it?" I spoke through the door. I was just replied by the sound of the doorbell.

I faced to an equally nervous Briefers. "Have any wise comments?" I asked.

"Probably nothing but 'Open the goddamn door'." He cracked up.

I shrugged at him as I turn the knob.

As slow as developing a negative, a picture of stockings and frills first emerged. My eyes, later, adjusted to a spunky smirk on dark tinted lips. Those lips suddenly uttered cheerfully. "I brought food." Then raised a heavy looking bag.

I lighted up and hugged the owner of those lips. "Stockings!"

"Duh." I dropped my arms and let her in.

"So whose this fella?" Stockings pointed to Briefers.

Briefers wave back weakly unable to utter a single word.

"Stocking. Briefers. Briefers. Stocking." I went to his side and budged his side.

"Hello. Nice to meet you." Stocking offered a hand which Briefers took.

"Nice to meet you too." He said shyly as he shook her hand.

"So Panty, is he your boyfriend?" Stocking said with a weird smirk.

"NO." Briefers and I said in unison.

"Wow, calm down, you two." She laughed at out beet red faces.

"Have you eaten yet?" Stocking waved a bag full of takeout. I'm guessing, Chinese and cake. She knows I always have a thing for spicy food and I clearly know she has a crazed sweet tooth.

"No, we just finished studying." I replied as we walked to the dining hall.

"Oh so you're the help Panty was talking about. I was expecting some more—you know—studious looking." Typical Stocking always straight forward as usual. What can I say? The Anarchy sisters never lie or cower to fear. Some more true than others.

I laughed at the comment as too did Briefers. I pointed at him. "What did I tell you? You look better that way."

"Am I missing something?" Stocking perked as we reached the dining hall.

We eyed at each other. I couldn't contain a giggle. "Let's just say that I don't always look like this." He surprisingly answered leaving Stocking puzzled.

We manage to place the food on the other end of the table since the other one was a complete chaos.

I sat beside Stocking as Briefers took the end seat again. He has this thing with end seats.

"Shit!" Stocking exclaimed just after she seated.

"What is it, Stocking?" I asked.

"I only brought three rice bowls." She looked so distraught that I pitied her yet at the same time amused by it all.

I reached to pat her shoulder. "It's okay. Uncle George is on a business trip."

I saw her visually relax with a sigh but after a quick pass, her face change to somewhat of concerned and bewildered.

"Panty?" She scarily articulated my name that I had an urge to run from this room just to avoid a yelling.

"Yes, Stocking?" I tried to maintain an upbeat voice as I hide my annoyance.

"Did you tell Uncle George that I'm coming here?" Her voice sounded bossy and annoying….as always.

I rolled my eyes and slowly chewed on the spiced pork before having to give a fuck. "We'll deal with that when he arrives." I reached to get some spicy chicken.

"So you didn't tell him." She dropped her chopsticks. "Can't you just fulfill a responsibility even for once?"

She yapped and yapped. I, in turn, was preoccupied with the spicy chicken that every word she said just became an annoying buzz. I almost forgot that Briefer is there. He looked worried and lost. He was pacing his chopsticks and was having a tough time eating his meal. I smiled to him to catch his attention. He looked at me and smiled unsurely as Stocking ranted at my back.

"This is why we can't sleep in the same room." I cut her off making her shut up. Thank God.

"Damn right! You—." Stocking almost started before I cut her off.

"Can we please just eat our meal? You can argue all you want later but can we not do this in front of a guest." I said and pointed Briefers out.

"It's okay." Briefers politely said.

"No it's not okay." I said.

"Fine." Now, it's Stockings' turn to cut my rant. She angrily went back to eating her meal and we all had our peace and silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Before you start reading this story, I would like all of you to take a moment, and thank this wonderful person- Chris Ahrens. If not for his tireless efforts, this thing wouldn't be what it is. He did a wonderful job of editing my chapter. I didn't have a lot of confidence with my writing esp. on my grammar so I thank him for this. I promise to improve my grammar and follies, and it's all because of him. Thanks.

(If you're a girl, then this appreciation letter should be embarrassing. Oh well.) To the fanfiction!

* * *

I shield my eyes on my attempt to gaze the sky. It was a humid day. The wind barely even blew, and if it did, it would be dry as a bone. The clouds littered the sky, barely giving us shade to escape the blazing rays of the sun. Today, the school was bustling with morning activities, as was the usual case. Custodians clear the pavement as foliage falls to the ground, as students walk with pride, wearing school-regulated blue, yellow, and maroon uniforms.

Over the bustling human activities, I admired the picturesque view of the majestic St. Francis Xavier as stands tall and proud. The school was built during the Victorian era as huge estate owned by a duke or somebody like that. The architecture was fascinating, or so Uncle George told me. He had some interesting facts, telling me about how it was built in the style of the Gothic Revival. I did not have any interest in things such as that. Instead, I concentrated on the actual beauty of the building. In my opinion, that itself speaks volumes, more so than any information concerning the Gothic style-thingy. I stood there in silence for a while, just admiring the beauty of its angles and sharp spires.

I look at my phone to catch the time, which turned out to be 8:16. Under a mid-sized oak tree, I scan the gate with impatience. I watch as students rush to their classes, and I sit down, disputing with myself whether to apologize for yesterday night or not. We had all sat at dinner, gorging ourselves in an awkward silence, finding it hard to uphold even the tiniest small talk. Stocking behaved well throughout the night, keeping every statement or complaint she had inside her, while Briefers, as expected, was dead-pan silent. After dinner, he swiftly packed up his things before rushing to the door. His barely muttered goodbyes were only heard of by me. I had felt obligated to escort him to the door, but something about him that made me feel he wanted to be alone. Plus, he had left so quickly I didn't even have a chance to try. It had felt like he wasn't around. It was same thing he did before I even got the chance to talk to him. It felt as though he distanced himself from everyone around him. I understood his reason, yet still, it was my duty as a friend to make him know he didn't need to feel that way. I should not have hesitated. Instead, I should be there for him, even if he doesn't want me around, for it was for his own good. Last night, he told me that he didn't want me to feel what he felt. I guess we are both creatures entangled to the arms of loneliness. But, however hopeless as we are, we can still be together on this. I felt my gut crumple again, feeling useless because I was unable to repay his kindness to me.

I look up again to watch the rays of sunlight flow from spaces between the leaves of the tree, creating a kaleidoscope of light which feels tingly as it hits my skin. I shield my eyes, for the sun is getting in them. Lowering my head once again, I let out a long sigh.

"Damn, I really am a bad friend." I told myself out loud.

The word hung to the warm air. I close my eyes to hold back the tears, bitter in my lonely world.

A steady patter of footsteps makes their way towards me, crushing the fallen leaves beneath them. I smiled knowing those were the footsteps I had heard under the bridge that one day.

"Why aren't you in class?" His voice was hoarse yet soft. It almost sounded painfully gratifying to hear him without any strain of anger.

I opened my eyes and turn to smile at him. I go up the bench and patted down my skirt, shirt, and bag. I did almost everything to delay the awkward moment of explaining my reason. After everything was fixed, straightened, and smoothed, the moment arrived. I fixed my gaze to him and smiled once again. It was more for myself than it was for him because it wouldn't only lighten the atmosphere, it would also help me brainstorm a good excuse.

I swallowed my fear as I racked my brain. However, it seemed as all of my fibs and excuses were gone. In my nervousness, I decided a subject change was the best option. "I'm so sorry about yesterday." I told him, fighting the urge to run away.

He smiled gently and placed his hand on my shoulders. "Why are you saying that? I believe it is I that needs to apologize."

"But I wasn't a good friend. I let you down." I mumbled weakly, truly believing every single word from my mouth.

He chuckled and lower his head to level his eyes with mine. My cheeks warmed as the space between us decreased, but it was his eyes that shook my soul to its very core. "You haven't let me down. I made things awkward that night, and I'm sorry."

I lifted a brow and tried my best to counter that notion, but found myself staring into his eyes, speechless. We spoke through our eyes. They held my words and his words. They spoke of a sadness written over time by pained moments, such as mine.

He let out a sigh, by mine afterwards. Before we even knew it, our giggles pushed all the talk aside.

He patted my shoulders again and grinned. "Well, why don't we just forget about last night?"

I attempted to choke out my remaining words, yet his smile reassured me, quieting me. I guess it wouldn't hurt not to over think this. I returned his smile and wrinkled my nose to gulp down the pain. "Ok." I sighed again as I watch him head towards school building. It was about a minute before I take off after him.

"I never expected that to be anything like that." I declared as we walked down the pavement towards the school.

He turned up again to laugh. "Define 'that'."

"You see those TV shows were when friends get into a big argument, it usually ends up with dramatic crap or something."

"Well, we're not in one of those shows." He answered, confidently.

I stopped at my tracks and faced him. "What's makes you say that?" I inquired.

"First of all, we are not in a freaking TV show, as I said before. Second, don't you agree that we both need this?" He pointed at both of us.

"I see your point in the TV show, but what about the 'need' part. What do we need?"

He scanned his surroundings in deep thought before he held his gaze and let out a sigh. "We need each other right now. You see what I mean? We need someone to open up to and trust."

I pointed at myself. "And you say that someone you need is me?" I asked, stunned.

"Funny, right? I didn't expect it either, but the thing is, it took me seven hundred dollars worth of therapy to even realize what I need."

"Yeah, sure. I guess funny is one way to put it."

"What are you suggesting?" He speculated as I thought through my wide and trashy thesaurus.

"If you insist... You are obscene, fucked- up, dysfunctional, weird, insane, and completely awkward." I said, rattling off as many insults as I could. "Also, did I mention ridiculous?"

"Stop it. You're killing me." He grinned. "It may sound a little crazy but I get this feeling around you."

I covered my mouth in mocked shock. "Are you in love with me?" I stared at his eyes for him to catch the joke.

He laughed. "No, not that. Comfortable is one way to look at it." He started to walk away to the front entrance.

I smiled at myself again. It is silly how he took the words right out of my mouth. I guess satisfaction and comfort are things we seek right now. My reasons are notable and his –well, we'll get to that.

I doubled my pace to catch up to him. I highly doubt that this was even the right time, but then again, timing wasn't really my forte. "So-" I said, prolonging the word.

"Why did you need the therapy?" He stopped again, with a tired look on his face. "If you don't mind me asking?" I added, after seeing his expression.

He sighed again. I amuse myself thinking of the abundance of sighing the day had brought. A lot of tired hearts, I think. "I would think of avoiding this question but I guess, it's inappropriate not to tell you."

"It is your duty as a friend but if it counts, I won't force you on anything more than what you can give." I said.

He started walking in slow, calculated strides. "I couldn't tell you much. Is that okay?"

I walked to match his steps. I smiled then said. "Anything you're comfortable with."

"Ok. Let's just say that I was a troubled kid. I had a rebellious phase. My dad stepped in the picture and told me I needed help. Help he couldn't provide himself."

Briefers paused. "He wasn't really around that much so I guess it was explainable." Briefers articulated his loneliness with a grim smile.

I tried to smile back, but I could barely curve my lips. . Stepping closer to him, I extended my arms over his shoulders -it was a feat since he was at least five inches taller than me. Anyway, he crouched down a little, as if he can read my mind.

"That's enough, geek boy. That's enough." I squeeze my arm to emphasize my point.

He smirked bashfully before clearing his throat. "Thanks."

"For what? Forcing you to admit something?" I kept a tone of shock as we walked awkwardly, nearing the lobby.

He giggled. "Well, it took some weight off me."

"Wow. I have a strong feeling that I got more out of you than what your therapist ever did." I said in-a-matter-of-fact voice.

"Let's just say you beat him time wise."

"Well! If that's the case then your dad should be paying me instead."

A shadow passed his features before disappearing again, like an enigma. His gleam returned brightly as he said "I believe he should be paying you for much more."

I blushed, my heart trembling with his words ringing through my ears. I loosed my arm around his neck and slapped his shoulder. "What's with you today, sweet talker?" I asked, giggling.

He rubbed his shoulder again to play with me. "Whatever are you talking about?" He grinned as he cocked an eyebrow.

I raised my both my hands to over my head in an exaggerated fashion before I let them fall to cover my embarrassed face. "You know- all the talking."

I snuck a peek through my fingers to catch a glimpse of a boy waiting with his green puppy eyes. My stomach was swarmed with butterflies giving me an emotional cartwheel. I cleared the stammering aches in my throat before I tested my ability to speak. "You talk too much for me to have any sort of comfort."

I dropped my hands in my face because it felt too awkward, giving myself a double facepalm will sort of point out the dilemma I desperately did not want to show. I shook my head to rid of my 'loserness' and faced him again. He had such an unforgivingly cute face. "Are you high? What did you take?" I tried to sound calm, but I knew it was from far it.

He shook his head as he giggled and started to ascend the stairs. I watched with an open mouth as he left me hanging. I squeezed my hands to a fist making my knuckles turn white. I growled some nasty words at myself before I followed him up to the lobby.

I was able to catch- up with him as we entered the long, locker-filled hallways. There was a noticeable absence of people around. The hallways were deserted and the doors were locked, while noises of people chatting in their respected classes were the only thing that buzzed in the air.

We turned right together before stopping at the end of the equally long hallways.

"Room E4, right?" He started.

I nodded and pointed to him. "Room D4?"

"Yep!" He beamed.

We started walking again before stopping at the middle of the hallway looking at the doors opposite to each other.

"So, I guess this means 'See you later?'." I watched as he bashfully muttered the words.

I contained a laugh under my hand. "And you getting back into character?" I asked, giggling.

"Sorta." He awkwardly leaned his head to his side before he shrugged his shoulders.

I ventured through my handbag. After rummaging around for a while, I found the articles I was looking for.

"Here." I handed him his glasses.

His face lighted up as he took it to his hands. "Wow, thanks. I was wondering where you placed them." He wore his glasses carefully- daintily snuggling the specs as if they mean something. What am I kidding? This is Briefers. Anything that is something will eventually mean something.

He buttoned his dress shirt to the neck before neatly tucking in his blazer. He looked like the poster boy for the perfect dress code.

"Am I in character already?" He asked.

I rested my hand under my chin to inspect his handiwork. Head to toe, I registered his entire feature. I nodded in satisfaction.

He smiled before turning to walk to his door.

"Wait." I grabbed his shoulders to stop his tracks.

"What?" He was bewildered.

I racked my fingers over his hair to mess up it up a little. "There. Much better." I patted my back for a job well done.

"Thanks." He smiled in appreciation.

My heart plunged headfirst to a pit of chaos as I watch his cluttered yet adorable façade shining as if it was the only thing on my vision. It's the kind of thing you expect in cliché movies where the protagonist envisions someone as the background blurs to pastel-colored lights, and a chorus magically popping out elsewhere. Damn him!

"Bye." I stifled the word out before rushing to my door.

As I placed my hand on the knob, I stopped to listen to my heart. After taking a few long breathes, I ready myself to get into my character. This was rather for appearances than it was for comfort. I bit my lip to recite my daily mantras of aloofness and bitchiness.

While saying my prayers, I heard Briefers whispered through the hallway. "Don't sweat it we're in this together."

My strength brewed at his remark. "Yes, we are." I told myself in silence.

I look back at him but was sadden to see the door close as the locks clicked to part. I close my eyes to savor my moments alone- alone to face the monsters more outrageous than the ones under my childhood bed. I hold on to his words. I better last through this day since he'll suffer the same as I do. Now, we are alone yet together.

I opened the door to receive the flood of noises and faces to need to get through today- just like any day. As I took a stride to the room, I notice the fall of sounds. Is this what they call a grand entrance? I humored myself.

I raised my chin and carefully peeled my lids up to take in the spectacle.

The first thing I saw was my Calculus teacher's scornful face. " You're late, Ms. Anarchy- again." He spoke in a British accent since he married an American traveler.  
I huffed out a little before proceeding to my seat.

* * *

The bell rang its irritating tune to note that it'll be time for lunch. Students hurriedly took their bags and left the room as if there an epidemic. What am I kidding?They're running away from me.

Throughout French class, I slept on my desk to pass the boring monologues of our teacher's quarrels. It was sick hearing all about it when you clearly don't give a damn. Unluckily, Madam LeMour doesn't have a speck of human intelligence.

I rose to inspect myself. After making sure I didn't drool, I got up my seat to sadly announce that I was the last to walk out of the classroom…again. People aren't allowed to eat inside class since the head chairman thinks it would be too unsanitary.

I got my bag and walked through the elegant looking desks and chairs to proceed to the door. Suddenly, my phone rang. I growled a little before searching through my bag again.

I unlock the screen to open the message.

"Oh Briefers." I thought.  
_Panty. Lunch in the rooftops._

I can't help but smile a little. I replied  
_Sure._

I waited in the threshold unable to turn the knob. After a few short moments, my phone can to life again.  
_Great! See yah there._

I tried to wipe the goofy grin on my face but it just won't budge. I slapped my face from side to side, looking like a complete idiot. Damn, it is frustrating.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before turning the knob. This time, I successfully entered the bustling hallways.

I turned left, heading for my locker. It was a few quick turns around the rows of excellently-craved mahogany cabinets. On my way, I tried not to make any eye contact, since it would be best from other people to keep to their business. Even with my chin up, I accepted that people here will have a place for me. I was a little glad that I can almost end this trip since I already was making a turn to the hallway containing my locker.

A few short steps away, Cosette came to my vision.

"Fuck." My inner voice screamed. I basically need to bite my tongue trying to hold the inner bitch inside me from going berserk. Right now, she was leaning on a locker there with her 'best friend', Rose in a middle of a heated conversation in what seems to be some idle chit-chit to other people's eyes. But because I knew better, words exchanged by these two blubberheads will always be the next scandal that'll hit this school- the fact that I know about these high jinks because four straight months, I was their topic of interest. They will always prove that there is no such thing as bad publicity.

I placed my hopes on every step making sure that these two hyenas won't give a damn about me. One foot in front of the other, I held my breaths hoping I could never get a sniff of the outrageously heavy perfumes they're wearing. I arrived to my locker to return my books and notes. I took out the stuff I needed for my afternoon classes and during study time. I closed my locker and turn back to head for the flight of stairs.

"Hey, Panty." Rose's equally annoying voice rose through the crowd.

I scowl a little while muttering curses in my head. I turned to the bitch and walked to them trying to avoid a scene.

"Helloo-" I scrutinized them from head-to-toe." Rose. Hello, Cosette. What pleasure is it to see you today?" I poured every drop of sarcasm enough to drown them to a bottomless pit.

Cosette still looked like she was ready to pounce on me any moment but I have a feeling she's expecting something out of this one. They looked at each other before Rose smirk manically.

"So." Her dumb voice started shredding my brain cells. "I heard you and Briefers are a thing. Is that true?" Rose spoke with high enthusiasm that it completely contrasted to my utter disregard for anything comes out of those lips.

I wrinkled my nose to show my disgust. This is so overrated. I chuckled disinterestedly and started walking away from these two buffoons.

As I turned, Cosette's voice shrieked. "Nothing to say, slut?" She said it with so much confidence that it earned some _Ohhs_ from Rose.

I turned my head to show them my profile and said. "Nah, just sick and tired of playing these games. Just come back when you have something new to bring. Maybe that way, you'll earn my full attention."

Rose's gaped in shock and as did Cosette's.

I turned and this time to never looking back. I quickened my pace to feel the blur of my surroundings all together. I just want this world to leave me alone.

I climbed the stairs on my way to the fifth floor. The fifth floor was mostly occupied by biology labs. It was deserted for most time except for a handful of staff roaming the hallways to check on a daily basis.

Upon reaching the last flight of stairs, I suddenly heard a loud noise from the floor. I took an effort to lift my feet faster to see the ruckus.

As my feet landed on the last step, I scanned the hallway from left to right. I listened a little more to conclude that there were voices. Loud and angsty voices. I walked to my right to turn to the corridor.

"Is it true, loser?" Nathan's voice boomed. My heart stopped at the sight of Briefers with a bleeding forehead.

Surrounded by three of his teammates, he pushed Briefers to the wall. Briefers released a painful cry as his back hit the wall.

Unable to stand his pain, I ran to them. I pushed the other jocks aside, before pushing Nathan away. Briefers whimpered, as his knees gave away making him collapsed to the floor.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" I growled.

Nathan stepped back and raised his arms in the air to mock me. His full six feet two inches of manly ego loomed over my relatively small frame. He laughed together with his crew.

He faced his teammates. "So, it is true. Panty is sucking that loser's dick." He turned again to face me, grinning smugly. "Are you bored with me? Is that what you're saying?" Nathan yelled. His voice echoed loudly through the corridors.

I stood there with fixed and angry gaze. A fire burned in me. I never felt as angry in my life as I did at that moment. This was even worse than the feeling I had every time I saw Cosette. It was even worse than what I felt for my mother. It burned inside of me, charring my heart.

I growled. "I wasn't bored with you, Nathan."

Nathan laughed with pride. "So, why do you came back to me?"

I personally was disgusted by myself for even thinking of him as a sleeping option. I was mindfucked by the amount of shit emanating from his mouth.

He continued a little, but it was all same. I got fed up with his stupidity eventually, and held up a finger to his mouth.

I chuckled. "I wasn't bored with you because I was never really in to you."

His eyes dilated before I closed in to whisper on his ear. "You are such a bad fuck." To that, I pulled away

Judging by the color and look on his face, he was angry as well. That makes two of us. His features shrunk and his boyish face contoured to fit the angry state he was in. He growled, grunted and cursed an awful lot.

I stared in fascination for my handiwork but before I got the moment, his eyes flew back to me in sheer terror. He rose in left hand and slammed it down- hitting my cheek where it freaking hurts the most. I shrieked in pain and staggered back. The spot where hit he was throbbing.

I smirked and said to myself. "_So this is how it feels. A slap from the quarterback. I'm impressed._"

I placed a hand over the might-be bruised area to recess the pain.

Briefer's cries blurred and as the distress faces of Nathan's team.

"Nathan, you have stomped to a new low. You just got a pussy." I turned to get Briefers as he limps with painful yelps.

Over my back, I could hear the chaos elevating from the scene. I chose to ignore it and leveled myself to walk steady to the rooftop door.

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

I sat on the floor, leaning my head on the wall. In the vast emptiness of the rooftops, our erratic, huffed breaths filled the hot, dry air. It was around midday, and the sun was brutal, radiating heat like a ball of fire, but it did not concern me. I did not care about these pointless issues, those which could not be changed. I closed my eyes, and sighed in relief. I was relieved that I was far away from everything, or at least in a hypothetical sense.

After a few quick, short breaths, I touched my swollen cheek.

"Damn, it is still throbbing." I said to myself.

I straightened my back, removing my head from the cool wall which it had rested on. I glanced at the battered form of Briefers, who was sitting beside me. He was silent, and looked like he was in deep thought about something, although I could not tell what it was. It was like his soul was sucked out of him, for he had a blank look on his face, the same expression he had when he was pained by something. He bit his lower lips, his eyes burning of a silent fury. I willed myself to touch his hand. My fingers met a clenched fist, his knuckles showing white through his skin. I entwined my hand with his, hoping he would realized I was still here beside him, willing to comfort him. It was truly heartbreaking, the situation, his face, all of it. I forced my tears back, hoping that I would not make the situation any worse than it already is.

"Briefers?" I whispered gently.

There was no reply from the boy. I creased my forehead in frustration, but those feeling quickly took the backseat, as I realized exactly how much pain he was in. I pondered about ways to lead him back to consciousness, and to me. He seemed completely lost in his own world of sadness. With all the pain that was already in him, I couldn't fathom how this mayhem affected him. I ran my other hand frantically to my hair absentmindedly as I stared at Brief.

As far as the debacle was concerned, I knew that I was to blame. If only I hadn't made such stupid mistakes, then Briefers wouldn't be in this situation. If it were possible, I wish I was the one being beat up. It was all my fault, so it should be me who faces the consequences. But, life has a wicked sense of humor. Instead, the punches landed on Briefers while I got the sissy slap. I ran the number of things I **ed up in the past, yet there is something about this that made it stood out from my memories. Others were either bitter or angsty, while some were sad, and others were frustrating. All were like colors on a street graffiti which I sometimes, call my life. Yet, this one was nothing at all. The pain was sharp and stern, but shallow and void. It is the feeling when your voice is sucked out of you, and you are left in cold darkness. It's alienating and aloof. It was empty yet powerful. That feeling is that of hopelessness.I growled, a sound which came from low in my throat, at myself.

I wish I had the strength to pull him out of his trance, the kind of strength I always want for myself, not physical, but emotional. He felt so good to be around that it always felt unreal. I've never been around someone who accepted me for who I am, except for him. Comforting was an easy term to define it. He could kind, fun, exciting, humbling, or even unbelievable. But, after all those, I think only one word could sum up the feeling. Metanoia. I just love that word. It means changing yourself- heart and spirit. In the little time we spent with each other, I feel myself changing little by little. Things started looking better. I found things can be more tolerable when he's around.

Things seems like it can come undone, and bloom to something more.I gritted my teeth together. Out of all this, why am I still afraid? I have a hell of a lot of reasons to save him, but why do I fail when it comes to myself. If he is saving me, what may be the reasons, and I will always keep on asking.

I turned to him, and muttered foolishly. "Why?"

He did not look. He was still lost in an abysmal haze. Tears were running down his bruised cheeks. My heart was crushed. It was then I decided that I was not losing anyone today- not this time. I banished any thought that was running in my crappy nutcase, and gathered every single dose of courage in me.

"I'll deal with my emotions later." I stated, out loud.

I swiftly turned my sitting position to face Briefers. I brushed my hair to one side, so it won't be a bother. Not having any clue what to do with my hands, I shook as I let go of Briefer's fist, and placed them on the floor to balance myself. I then raised my right hand, and brought it to his chin. I whimpered at little when I felt the dried-up blood that stained his face, trickling from his forehead.

"It's all gonna be alright" I said to myself as much as I said it to him.

I pulled his face to mine, and looked into his eyes. They were still hazy and lost. I felt chills just looking into them. I wish I knew what was in his head, but was too afraid to ask. His teary eyes shifted to land on my face. They dilated in recognition, but failed to function, and just stared as if I was made of cellophane. My throat clumped up, and my eyes stung. I leaned my forehead to his, and started to entwined my arms around him, so he would acknowledge my existence. I leaned my chin to his shoulder before I closing my eyes, and listening to his breathing. It was hoarse and needy.

After a few short but intense moments, I felt his face muscles move. I opened my eyes, and found him open-mouthedly choking at his words. I pulled my face back to give him some space.

"I'm so-sorry." He stuttered.

My eyes widens. What the hell is he talking about? I thought. Why should he be sorry?

He shook his head before his eyes looked down- away from mine. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to save you."

His voice was heavy with regret. I scoffed heavily before I untangled my hands from him, and decided to kneel to him. This time, he thrashing in blind frustration. I didn't know what it was, but clearly, I was very misplaced.  
I, then again, raised my hands to cage his face before forcing his gaze to land to me. I knew it hurt him, but I didn't care. I'll do everything to get him back.

"Fuck you, Briefers Rock." I articulated in pure annoyance.

Now, it was his turn to be in shock. His eyes shifted around, yet failed to return my fixed gaze. I found it irritating to see him lost because I was supposed to be in his place. And now, look at how the tables have turned. It really was wicked humor. I elapsed at the irony, and found all too funny.

I couldn't help it. I didn't know what gave me the urge to, but crazily, a giggled erupted from deep within me. Damn, I must be going crazy.

His gaze shot straight to mine. For some miraculous reason, not matter how idiotic it maybe, this little giggle has caught Briefers' attention. "So, it only took an idiotic giggle to bring you back to reality? How about I punch your gut, Briefers?" My inner ** nagged.

I was obviously bewildered by myself, but if was what it takes, then I'll do it in a heartbeat. Even if, it'll schedule me a trip to the nearest shrink.

No matter how confused, I was just glad I got his attention.

His lips parted, and attempted to speak out but I knew, he choked the words. I was kindly amused and pitied him.

After concluding that he'll never speak up, I took a deep breath. "What is this crap about not being able to save?" I spoke in a half-joking-half-serious kind of way.

"Geek boy, I know you're an idiot, but are you blind? This is my **ing mess. You just got caught between it."

I was grateful his were on me the whole time. I smiled to him- seemingly forgetting that I have a bruised cheek. His eyes were still sad, but I was glad they weren't lost anymore. I rubbed my thumbs to his devastatingly more bruised cheeks. His face soften underneath my fingers, and his tears started to dry up.

"Now, calm down, sport." I reassured him.

He closed his eyes, and did exactly that. He breathed deeply, and leaned his face to my hands. Comforted by that idea, I sighed in relief.

"I brought him back." I celebrated with a smile.

I shifted him to lean on the wall again, after seeing that he's alright now.

I leaned myself too because my back started to hurt after all that leaning. I raised my head to face the sky- thanking that the storm has finally passed. I smirked to comfort myself. I reached out to hold his hand once again. It was to anchor him down, and hoping, his thoughts would stay placid.

Silence came in between us, yet it was welcomed. Words would only complicate things right now. I hummed a little, and swayed to the beat.  
Yet out if freaking nowhere, my stomach started to growl.  
"Son of bitch!" I shouted- shocking Briefers.

Refusing to give in to any awkward explanations, I swiftly dug in my bag to fetch my lunchbox. Anyone who knows me well would know that I never ever skip any meals. None. Zero.

I cooked today since George arrives this evening. I am proud to say that I make a fantastic chicken sandwich.

I got one sandwich, and threw the other one to Briefers.

The sandwich landed on him clumsily, as he was still dazed from my sudden movements. He look like a cat. You know, when they see something weird, they tend to stare too much.

I raised my eyebrow at him while I tore the tissue wrapper away. I opened my mouth, and bit the damn thing.

"So good." I ogled in satisfaction. Damn, I do make one hell of a sandwich.

I chewed my food like an animal to savor the things in it- especially the chicken. "Ughh" It felt like an **.

As I lost myself in bliss, I have all but forgotten, Briefers. I peeked at him as he stared at the sandwich- like I said, like a cat.

I laughed with a full mouth.

I knew he was bewildered because he tore himself from the sandwich, and look at me.

I mockingly widen my eyes to return his lost stare. Poor kid.

"What?! Can't I eat?" I bit my sandwich again. "All this drama is making me hungry."

He pondered a little bit before he got the nerve to free his sandwich. He looked again and again- in what seems like forever before he took at bite at it.

I smiled, and said. "See? That wasn't so hard is it?"

He peeked from his lashed, and nodded bashfully. I breathed a sigh of relieve after seeing him like this.

* * *

The bell rang for lunch to end. I got my bag, and slowly stood up. I looked at Briefers again. He was there. He still stared at the distance, and lost from this world. It looked like the world was at his shoulders. He was like this after we finished our lunch. I know, it would be wise not to bother him right now. I was lucky to even get him to eat. At least, he didn't stare. What kind of friend would I be if I can't get him to eat?

I scanned him again from head to foot. I flinched a little when I see his wounds because I still blame myself for it. I also perfectly know it would be bad for him to go to class like this- blue and bruised. It'll cause too much hustle and rumors. And, we don't want that, do we?

I sighed. "Will you like to go to class, or we can go to the infirmary?"

He downcasted, and breathed deeply. "If it's not a bother, can we go to the infirmary? I really don't like people seeing me like this." He said, giving me a small smile before he got up his feet.

I saw he had a hard time, so I manage to caught him before he fell flat to the floor.

"Thanks." He uttered.

I forced a smile. "No problem."

I placed his arm around my shoulders, and allowed to him to lean on me. At first, it was awkward, and we had a hard time finding the right rhythm. I tried my best not to step or stumble since I knew it would be the death of us. Yet later, we finally got on each other's heads, and started walking graciously. One flight of stairs after the other, we took our precious time going down since we don't want other people see him like this. We stopped at little at the forth floor before proceeding down again. Before we knew it, we were on the hallway containing the infirmary.

A few shorts steps, and I was turning the knob to the room. I opened it carefully. I looked around before muttering. "Hello?" Yet, there was no reply.

I shrugged a little, and walked inside.

I walked to one of the beds. The beds, here, were standard hospital beds, like the ones you see in huge hospitals. They were costly, big, and complete with all the required instruments for one's health.

I There were around ten bed here which were carefully aligned on two rows with there backs to the wall. I walked to one nearest to the huge glass window, and slid the plastic curtain separating the beds from each others.

Briefers hissed the pain, and started to cradle his stomach.

"Can I get you something?" I asked. I pouted a little to show my genuine concern for him.

He shifted, and laid his head to the pillow. He stared at the high ceiling before shaking his head from side to side.

I snorted, then went to pass one corridor, and to the nurse's office where the supplies were kept. I browsed through the wide range of medical treatments that were right there. I wasn't really good at this stuff. I usually just poured an insane amount of alcohol to a wound, no matter how much it stung, and get over it. But, today was entirely different. I scratched my head before deciding to grab the ice pack from the refrigerator, and some some ointments.

I walked back to the room again. I stopped to take one breath because my heart can't take the sight of a crying Briefers. I covered my mouth, and watched. Tears flooded down his cheeks as he looked out at the afternoon lit grounds.

I strengthened myself again to walk back to him again. The ice pack was freezing my hands, so it would be best to get rid of it. I maneuvered to sit on the edge of his bed before I handed him the ice pack.

"Here." I smiled as my other hand wiped the tears from his face.

He took it, and placed it on his swollen temple. "Thanks." He said dryly.

I got the ointments, and administered some to his slitted-lips. He hissed, but he didn't complain.

I held my gazed to him as I counted the silent moments.

Suddenly, the door opened. An average-height strawberry blond lady walked in with a clipboard at her chest. Her name was Diane. She perked up a little when she saw us.

"Oh. What's wrong, dearie?" Her little sharp voice rang with concern. She walked up to us in haste, and to the opposite side of the bed to examine Briefers.

"Oh, good Lord! What happened?" She shrieked.

Briefers bit his tongue, and stared out again to avoid the awkward glance from the school nurse. With that, she looked at me with calculating eyes.

"Uhm" I said, flustered. "Well, we sorta got in some trouble." I scratch my back before looking at the wide- eyed Briefers. "It's gonna be okay." I mouthed to him.

Diane nodded then faced Briefers. "Is it something serious?" Before, she faced back to me.

I held waved my hands over my chest. "We'll manage." I smiled pretentiously.

She shrugged a little before saying. "Okay. I hope you clean up this mess, Panty."

She patted my shoulder. "I'll get him patched up, and get you some ice." She held my jaw to examine my cheek. Her face contoured in pain, but swiftly recovered to hold out a hand to Briefers.

Briefers raised a brow, but was quickly countered by Diane. "Young man, could you give me back that ice pack?" Briefers shakingly handed the ice pack. It was funny how confused he was in the situation.

With that, Diane walked out from the room, and to her office.

I faced the shell-shocked Briefers.

"She's really something, isn't she?" I tried to lighten the mood.

He blinked rapidly, and faced me. "She is. How exactly does she know your name, and why do I have the feeling she has been through this a lot?

"You ask too many question. But yeah, she is pleasant and understanding. She kinda gets me, and understands enough not to tell on me." I giggled at far memories.

"Really? How?" I was glad, he was talking.

I smiled. "I always cut classes here, but I remember one time when I thought I was pregnant" Briefers took in a quick breath. "She gave me a test, and made me stay in the clinic the whole afternoon." I giggled again. "It was funny, really. After that, she begun giving me pills."

"It must be great to have her around." Briefers said with a sad and eerie tone.

I smiled in empathy. I kept my mouth shut to prevent any unnecessary crap yet, reached out to hold his hand.

Diane came in again, and wrapped Briefers with bandages. There were a lot of grunts and yelps, but in the end, Briefers look patched up. He even had his black eye covered up to prevent any more swelling. From right where I sat, he looked like the mediocre reincarnation of Frankenstein- or, as I imagine it. I giggled. Diane gave me another ice pack, and some balm to my cheek to lessen the pain.

"Are you staying?" Diane asked me.

"Can I?" I pleaded.

"I count this as pass for the week." She pointed out.

"Thanks, Diane." I genuinely was very grateful.

"Cut the crap, angel face, and stop getting yourself into trouble." She sassed and smiled. I love her that way.

"I'll try."

She nodded, and proceeded to the curtains. "If there's anything you need," She scuffed. "You know what to do." She looked at me with her grey piercing eyes before sliding the curtains shut but quaintly, leaving the view from the window open.

I got a chair, and sat on it while I leaned my head on the bed. My head rested on my crossed arms while I watched Briefers again. It wasn't a shocked that he drifted away again, but things improved now. Like, right now, He wasn't crying at all. He was just lost in daydream.

I ran my fingers through the fabric of his pants, and hummed a calming melody. It was whimsical, just feeling the notes slipped through your mind, and deciding that it felt right.

"Why are you still here?" Briefers asked suddenly, breaking the calm atmosphere.

"Diane said that I can stay." I said in a matter-of-fact voice, which was sure to annoy him.

He avoided my eyes. "But you have classes." He said bitterly.

"Briefers Rock. Whether you like it or not, I'm staying, and there's nothing you can do about it." I said bluntly, in such a way which let him know I wasn't changing my mind.

"Why are you being so stubborn?" He muttered, through gritted teeth "Not as stubborn as you are." I stared at him in fury. "Don't take me for a fool, Rock."

His green orbs land on me again, and it was filled in anxiousness. "I'm not taking you for a fool."

"Stop lying, and start talking. It's better for all of us." I said sternly.

He shifted awkwardly but, he held his tongue quite well.

I huffed. "Fine. If you not talking, that's fine. But, I'll know that you can't get rid of me that easily, Briefers Rock. I'll stay here until you start talking."

I placed my head back to my crossed arms and pretended to take a nap. I calmed myself down, and tried to al least extend my patience. Which, I could tell, was running at an all time low.

I heard him clear his throat, and begun to sit up. "I guess you're right. So where do you wanna start?"

I perked up again to face him. "Uhhm" I thought. "Let's started with this. Why did you say you didn't save me?"

He smile dryly. "Well, ain't it obvious? I was angry that you got hurt. It's that simple."

"I have a feeling that that wasn't for me." I said.

"Why is that?" His jaw tighten.

"It was as if someone died. Right there and then. You felt just.." I paused and stared at the sheets.

He lowered his head to look at me closer. "Just?"

"Lost." I faced him.

He sighed. "How did you come up with that?"

"Then again, don't take me for a fool, Briefers. I know lost when I see one. Plus, intuition."

He brought his hands together and nodded. "I guess it would be safe to tell you 'it'."

"For health reasons, and priorities." I sassed.

"Could you promise me that you won't overreact, or make a big deal out of this?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'll try."

"Fair enough." He started. "I was very close to my mom when I was little. Her name was Rachel. She was the greatest mom ever. We used to play a lot, and she would laugh all day. Her smiles were fantastic. " He smiled. ". One day, I played with the ball my father sent me for Christmas. I was nine that time"

"Were you close with your dad too?" I interrupted.

He shook his head. "We barely see each other. When we actually do, it's too chronic. The casual hello, goodbye, good-to-see-you stuff."

"Oh, Then he was missing out a lot."

"Yeah, I thought so too." His smiled was laced with sadness. "Can I continue with my story?"

"Sure. Please do."

"I was playing the ball at our yard. It was bouncing and bouncing that I had a blast throwing to the ground and see how high it would go. There was that time that I threw it too hard, and it bounced to the street. It was a suburban street, so it didn't have a lot of cars in the road. I ran to my ball and grabbed it in the middle of the street." He gulped as if it was acid in his throat.

"All of a sudden, I hear sirens on the end of the long street. You know as a kid, I stood there looking at the pretty light flashing, and the cars chasing each other. I stood there looking like a fool in the middle of the **ing road." His voice started choking. "My mom heard the sirens and came out of the door. I was stupid enough to wave at her while she ran in panic to me." I placed my hand on his. "She ran through the yard and pushed me out of the way, right before the car hit me. Right and there, I watched her body collide with the car." Tears started pouring again. That damn wall he was holding up too well broke down, and all that was left was the kid that day. I couldn't bear hearing it anymore, so I placed a finger on his lips.

I stood up and hugged his trembling figure. "Idiot. How can I not overreact? You just told me you mom just died." I grunted. Stupid.

He held my arms close, and just cried. "Let it all out." I told him.

"I could have save her. If it weren't for me, she could still be alive." He yelled.

"Shhsh. Stop it. It wasn't your fault." I barked at him.

"People keep saying that but why does it feel worse when they do?" His voice shook.

I took his face again, and look through his eyes. "IT"S NOT YOUR FAULT. Plain and simple, so stop whining and take it like a man."  
"But she died because of me"

"So she did, but she did it for you.- for you to live your life happy." My tears were pouring like rain. "You owe her. What would she say when she gave up her life for the pathetic twat, you are?"

He smiled sadly as he sniffed. " I guess she would be very disappointed."

"Finally, you got the hang of it, genius." I said, before clearing my throat. "And for the record, I think you are one that's needs saving."

His face were clouded with agony, but I held myself to be the stronger one. Even if, it was just for today.

"That's right. And just as I said, I am not going anywhere, Briefers Rock."

* * *

Updated! Beta: Chris Ahrens

This chapter was a little hard to write considering the weight of emotions in this. A lot of things happened since I was writing this chapter. Maybe, it was because I was stressed and way too much historic movies that I fancied "big" words. It was weird that my beta told me I overdid a little. He was right.

I also think I confused this site with my tumblr that I often took this chapter as my diary. LOL. stupid me.

So, let me know what you think!

REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!


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